Remember My Name
by Bearer of Writers Block
Summary: Lucatiel left Godfrey with her sword and her memory, but her story did not end at Aldia's Keep. Lucatiel lives on, and her story must be seen through to the end.
1. You Must Go,

"My name is Lucatiel. I beg of you, remember my name. For I may not myself..." Godfrey pondered the last words the knight of Mirrah had said to him. It was rather ironic. The very item that would have saved her, she had given to him as thanks for hearing her story, not knowing of its power. As Godfrey thought on this by the bonfire, Shanalotte sat on the rocks next to him. She stared at him in examination, seemingly pealing apart his mind. "What troubles you?" She asked. Godfrey looked up at her, her green cloak spread out on the rocks around her. "A knight of Mirrah, by the name of Lucatiel. She gave me her sword, and seemed to be going hollow. The last thing she said to me was to remember her name." "And now you don't know what to do. For the queen is dead and you reign over the land, yet you cannot remove your mind from this woman. Why do you not simply order your knights to find her?" "I do not believe she wishes to be found, whatever state she may be in." Shanalotte thought on the matter for several minutes. " "It sounds to me as if you felt something for her. Perhaps pity, perhaps more." Bearer of the Curse, I have seen this many times before. If you do not find her you will never know peace, whether she is human or hollow." Godfrey sighed, and rose from the bonfire. "Perhaps, you are correct. As always seems to be the case." He moved toward Melentia, to buy supplies for the journey.

The branches whipped across Lucatiel's mask as she ran through the woods, pursued by hordes of assailants that she could not see. A small branching path presented itself, she took it, and found herself alone in a clearing, the invisible men fleeing, as if they feared something behind her. "You will be safe from them while you remain here," a voice with traces of a Forossan accent said next to her. Lucatiel's head snapped around, her hand flying to the longsword at her side in place of the greatsword she had given to the stranger. "You won't need that," the voice said. "Even if I had the intent or the will there is nothing I could do to you." "Show yourself and I may believe you," Lucatiel said. "Girl, I am already within plain view and indeed cannot move much but my face." "Look upon the pile of stones by your side and you will see what remains of me." Lucatiel slowly looked down, and saw what appeared to be a severed head, resting within a helm resembling a lion's head. "I am Vengarl, of Forossa and as I said, there is nothing I could do to you if I wished." "Is this some joke?" Lucatiel asked. "I am afraid not," Vengarl said. "If you are merely a head, what do they fear?" Lucatiel demanded as she pointed toward the woods. "I know not why, but they fear this place. Perhaps 'tis the force preventing an end to my misery that they truly fear. Whatever dark power that may be." Lucatiel lowered her hand, and sat on the ground before Vengarl. "In any case," came the warrior's voice, "who are you?" I have been around long enough to know a knight of Mirrah when I see one, but I could use a good story." Lucatiel sighed, and resigned herself to telling yet another of her life. "I had an older brother..."

Godfrey shoved the last of the lifegems and throwing knives into his pack, beginning to walk away from Melentia when the old lady spoke up. "What does our great king need all that for?" she asked. "Why do my endeavors suddenly matter to you Melentia?" Godfrey retorted. "Oh they don't, it just strikes me that a king would go do something himself. So, Methinks this might be personal." "Personal or IMPORTANT, and important means SOULS." Godfrey shook his head. "I'm afraid it's the former old friend." "Of course it is," Melentia said quietly. "So who is she Godfrey?" Melentia asked. "I'm disturbed you'd know it's about a woman," Godfrey said suspiciously. Melentia cackled in genuine amusement for the first time Godfrey could remember. "What?" he demanded. "Oh you adventuring types all think yeselves so special, but any time one of you runs off seemingly for no reason, it's over wealth or women. And what does a king need with more souls?" "Well played Melentia, well played..." As he walked to the bonfire to travel to Aldia's Keep where he last saw Lucatiel, he heard Melentia calling behind him, "Make sure you invite me to the wedding love!"


	2. On A Journey Without Rest

Upon arriving in the foregarden, Godfrey noticed the lack of the giant rats that usually greeted any visitors to Aldia's Keep. Upon reaching the massive doors to the Keep, he saw the mangled corpses of the rats, burns of magic and fire upon their flesh, maggots squirming about in gaping wounds from several days ago. Resisting the urge to purge what food was in his stomach, Godfrey forged on, into the main hall. The basilisks that should have attacked him were in a similar state to the rats, though some of the maggots were beginning to molt into flies. The basilisks' massive eyes were completely gone leaving the sockets as great flaps of skin. Fearing for the safety of Navlaan despite the sorcerer's power, Godfrey sprinted ahead toward the doorway under the landing, Lucatiel's greatsword in hand. As he turned the corner, Godfrey saw that Navlaan's cell remained closed both to the outside, and to the inside. Approaching the cell, Godfrey called out, "Navlaan!"

The wizard's head jerked up as if he had been shocked. "Hello Godfrey. Still on your journey?"

"A new one my friend. The first time I arrived here, there was a woman, in armor of Mirrah. I need to know what became of her."

Navlaan appeared to consider the description. "I remember someone of that nature. However good to me you may have been, though, I remember nothing of her goals. Maybe though, if you were to show some generosity... Perhaps that brilliant soul of your predecessor would jog my memory. What was his name, Vendrick?"

Godfrey stared at the warlock, wondering if he truly expected the soul of the former king.

"Yes Godfrey, I do indeed."

His thoughts snapped into the present at this apparent display of clairvoyance. "Very well Navlaan. You'll have your soul." Godfrey partially opened the shield of magic that contained the mad wizard to pass through the soul of King Vendrick.

"Brightstone Cove," Navlaan said. "The woman is headed to Tseldora, I know not why."

Godfrey turned and began to walk away. "Enjoy the lifegem Navlaan," he called over his shoulder. He pulled the real soul of King Vendrick from its pouch on his belt, the golden glow illuminating his helmet. As the king of Drangleic walked away, he understood the corpses of the rats and basilisks strewn about. Navlaan had tried to escape, but failed. The psychotic mage's screams of anger echoed around the chamber as Godfrey knelt before the bonfire, and faded away, back to Majula.

As Lucatiel walked through the ruins, she noticed strange skeletons strewn about the area, seemingly lions that walked upright. The skeletons were covered in tatters of cloth, with battle axes and shields resting near them. These creatures had been guarding something. At the end of the ruins there was a cliff, from which Lucatiel could see the entrance from which she had come. As Lucatiel turned away, she noticed a hidden road, the way in covered in shrubbery and dirt. The remains of two towers served as a doorway of sorts. With no other course left, Lucatiel slowly made her way up the steep path. At the top, there was a doorway to a room filled with sand, the remains of a horrific being laying in the center. From what little remained, it seemed to be a human torso upon the body of a titanic spider, or scorpion. As Lucatiel walked through the doorway, she felt a burning pain in the base of her skull, like a chunk of her brain was being torn from its place. The entire world seemed to tilt. The halfbreed's corpse seemed to stand up, missing pieces flying back into place. Suddenly there was black. She stood up as her vision cleared. The corpse was as it had been when she entered. The thought hit her like a brick. _"It's the curse."_ She had to hurry. The legends of the creature that destroyed Tseldora told of a great soul, as old as the Age of Ancients that would let any with the strength to claim it stay human. If only for a while. She looked down. Her mask rested on the ground. She picked it up, and in the polished metal she saw that the patch of hollowed necrotic tissue surrounding her eye had grown, and all but her left eye and temple had become a sickly green. A day. Two days. That was all she had left.

Godfrey fought his way through the parasitical spiders and their human drones. Finding himself at the door of Ornifex's workshop. The blacksmith's corvine face jerked up from her work as he opened the door.

"Hello, Godfrey. How, can I... help you?" the crow hybrid asked. The halting English was as endearing as ever.

"A woman came here," he replied. "I need to know if she remains."

"Unless you count the... hosts, no woman of your kind has been here for some time."

"What?" Godfrey thought on what might've happened. Had Navlaan deceived him? No. That wasn't it. Perhaps he had assumed that she would be ahead of him rather than behind. She might still be as far back as the Shaded Woods or the Doors of Pharros. After all, only he and Shanalotte knew how to travel through the bonfires.

" While we are talking, Godfrey, I notice you have quite the collection of souls there. Perhaps you might consider letting me work with one?" The inquisitive voice of the crow woman seemed to bounce around the small workshop, echoing the same request.

Godfrey smiled under the helm of Alva. "I'm afraid I've found my last sword Ornifex," as he said this the he pulled the Mirrah Greatsword from his back, and rested it on his shoulder."

"A fine blade... Godfrey. Unfamiliar in design, but... well made. Though not I suspect, of either, of our... lands."

"You would be correct in that. It was a gift. Coincidentally from the very woman I came to find."

As he turned to the door, Ornifex called to him. " May you find what you seek, Godfrey. Be that love, or... closure."

 _Okay, firstly, thanks to the guest reviewers, and thanks to Mellia Bee for letting me use her creative process. Secondly, if you lived in that world, would you actually give Navlaan the Soul of King Vendrick, if you were the king/queen and had to protect Drangleic? Thirdly, this is a longer chapter, do you guys like it better? If so I'll try to do more of this length but that will take longer._


	3. Your Wings Shall Burn In Anguish

Lucatiel dragged her legs through the waist deep water, blood oozing from the wounds the primal knight had inflicted. Every step was like having her stomach and leg torn open again as she fought her way to the bonfire. As she finally reached the cave beneath the stone stairs, her sight began to darken, and her skin felt as if some sadistic ghost was cutting it away. She collapsed next to the healing flame. Lucatiel's last memory before she passed out was the coiled sword and it's red glow. In the distance, someone screamed her name in anguish and exhaustion.

—

"LUCATIEL!" Godfrey bellowed the name through the humid cave. There was no response but for his own voice repeating the call. He had run out of Estus, and Gavlan's wares could only cure poison. They could not heal him.

The childish Gyrm knelt over Godfrey in concern.

" **Luke... Teal**?" His gravelly voice and poor enunciation butchered the name.

As he dragged himself back to his feet Godfrey became aware of the wounds he had sustained, and realized his error in not simply traveling through the bonfires. As he limped onward toward the Gyrm's Respite, small slivers of flesh hanging on by threads began to fall away, a grotesque trail of muscle and fat marking his path. His joints groaned under the immense stress that had been put on them in the last hour and a half of bloodshed. When Godfrey thought he had almost made it, his body gave out. The last thing that the knight saw, was a puddle of his own blood rushing up to meet him.

Gavlan was a very simple-minded being. Like other Gyrm, he was made for combat and not much else. However, he could recognize when someone was dying quite clearly because of this. He picked up the king of Drangleic and slung the unconscious royal over his shoulder. Walking as quickly as his heavy armor and large frame would allow, Gavlan made his way down to the ledge overlooking his cavern. and jumped into the shallow pool below. Despite skipping the flight of stairs, most of the time he saved was lost as he waded into a cave under the stairs, further slowed by the small pond. Gavlan knew not what to do in the cave, only that something inside had rejuvenated Godrey many times before. However, Gavlan was greeted by another human laying by a fire in the cave. This was unusual as for a long time, Godfrey was the only human to be found who was unhollowed. Gavlan set Godfrey by the unconscious woman. Gavlan stood there awkwardly, wondering what to do next. The woman across the fire from Godfrey stirred, and at the sight of Gavlan she jumped to her feet. Before he could do anything at all, Gavlan felt a blade to his chest, and reflexively raised his arms to defend himself. "What are you?" The woman demanded. " **I, Gavlan** ," he answered in confusion. Behind the strange woman there was an orange and red flash, a yellow fog began emanating from the bonfire and enveloped Godfrey. His wounds closed, those of his armor soon did the same. Godfrey climbed to his feet and looked upon the woman he had travelled across the land to find. "Hello Lucatiel."

 _I am aware of the fact that I'm an evil bastard. What can I say, I thrive on the suffering and criticism of my very few readers. Sorry this took so long, thanks to any who reviewed, next chapter shouldn't take as long._


	4. Time, After Time

"It's been a while," Godfrey said.

"Who..." Lucatiel trailed off. She saw the sword slung across his back, and a blinding image blasted through her mind. Herself and the man fighting some form of creature. Two beings bound together by their own flesh in the hull of a ship. A large circular room, orange light flashing on a demon of iron, and a darkened chamber adorned by chains hanging from the ceiling.

"I suppose it makes sense. The curse will have taken a toll on your mind by now," the man said. He approached her and held out his hand, offering a small humanoid figurine made of wire. A warm shadow radiated off of it.

Not moving her blade from Gavlan's chest, she took the figurine from him. "What is this?" She demanded.

"You know what it is," he said. "Look back, deep into your past. Who do you think it's supposed to be?"

The pain in her skull became too intense to bear, and in a fit of pain she crushed the figure. Like water from behind a dam, her memories flooded forth. "Godfrey..."

"Yes."

The confirmation solidified a sea of memories struggling to fit themselves into her mind. "You... most made a point of avoiding me..."

"While I made a point of engaging you," he finished.

A cool tingling prompted her to remove her mask, and in the reflection she saw her face as it once was, for the first time in over a year. "That thing... I gave that to you in Harvest Valley."

"Yes, you did. A human effigy is one of the few powers in this world that can reverse hollowing after it has already begun. By giving that to me you ensured your own salvation," he said. "We have much to discuss Lucatiel, in the meantime however, would you lower your sword and stop scaring Gavlan? He's quite harmless, just a kind merchant."

"Oh," she said, "sorry about that." She relaxed her arm and became aware of two things: her arm was sore, and she could feel that her arm was sore. For the first time since she began to go hollow, she could actually feel.

" **Godfrey... know her?** " Gavlan tentatively asked.

"Indeed I do Gavlan." The silence was broken when Lucatiel fell to the ground, physically and mentally exhausted from the ordeal of the last month.

" **She need help?** "

"No Gavlan, just rest. I learned the first time that I became hollow, that we cannot die, nor can we sleep. As the fire keepers tell every one of us: 'a journey without rest.'" Godfrey bent over and lifted the unconscious warrior, preparing to take her back to Majula.

" **Gavlan see you soon?** " The merchant's voice seemed far away as Godfrey placed his hand at the base of the bonfire.

"Perhaps Gavlan. Perhaps."

—

As the fire drew back from his vision Godfrey saw nothing but dark. Lucatiel was gone from his arms, and an explosion behind him shook the ground. Godfrey spun around, drawing Lucatiel's greatsword from his back. Before him burned a pillar of flame, and when the fire died a monstrous being appeared who's face was barely perceptible among the sparks and tangles of wood.

"Aldia. I shouldn't have assumed you were dead at the throne of want."

" _ **Spare me the drama Godfrey. If you truly believed me to be dead, then I should not be wasting my time with such an arrogant fool.**_ " The thunderous voice rolled through a plain of darkness and fog, seeming to shake the very Earth. " ** _Regardless, you shall have to suffice. I believe I have completed Vendrick's work. Not to end the undead plague, but to keep the infected human. A simple question had to be asked. What happens to one's souls when they are lost? They travel to another realm, that exists between the many worlds you have visited with that soapstone in your pocket. I have devised a method by which you may travel to this Cauldron of Souls and take it's power into yourself. Much as the three Great Lords did, you will gain power. More power than a human was ever meant to have. You must not let it consume you. These souls must be used as fuel to light a new flame._** "

Godfrey chose this moment to cut in. "Enough of the monologue Aldia. Where is Lucatiel?"

" ** _The girl is in Majula. She is being cared for by the herald and the hag. Your body is there as well. I simply reached into your mind for a little chat. You must travel north Godfrey, to ancient Anor Londo. You shall find me there, in the Duke's Archives._** "

The darkness faded, and Godfrey awoke in the master bedroom of Cale's former home. The cartographer having long since set out to explore the rest of the world, Godfrey had made repairs to the mansion with Lenigrast's help. It had essentially become the new Drangleic Castle, the original being home to all manner of hostile creatures. As he dragged himself from the bed, Godfrey immediately noticed the absence of his equipment, which had been replaced with a thick tunic. He stumbled toward the door, in a haze from his mind being opened up like a door for Aldia to waltz in and out of at will. When he reached the bottom of the stairs, Godfrey heard hushed conversation coming from the kitchen, the only identifiable voice being that of Melentia. "Oh don't ye' worry deary, he'll be just fine."

Lucatiel's voice echoed out next, "I should hope so. Perhaps half an hour more and I'd have gone hollow."

As Godfrey stumbled into the kitchen, Lucatiel jumped up from the table while Melentia simply turned to look at him. "So ye' finally woke up ye' lout! Luca here's been worryin' about ye' since ye' two popped out of the bonfire."

As if to contradict Melentia, Lucatiel walked up to Godfrey calmly and without a word. Faster than Godfrey could've reacted, even if he hadn't had his mind hijacked, Lucatiel's fist snapped out to impact his jaw. Before he could collapse, Lucatiel was hugging him as tightly as she could, to the point of restricting his breathing. "Damn you Godfrey. I thought you were dying, gods damn you."

Godfrey managed to croak out a response through her suffocating embrace. "I'd hate for you to rectify that."

Lucatiel jerked slightly as if not realizing what she was doing before slowly releasing him and stepping back slightly with a sheepish look on her face. "Sorry..."

"Oh ye' two are adorable. Make sure ye' invite me to the wedding!" Melentia cackled as she walked out the door, back to her usual spot by the eastern wall.

After a few seconds Godfrey broke the silence. "Sorry about her."

 _God I love torturing you guys. Thanks to Mellia Bee, who gave me the motivation to start writing again._


End file.
